A/N: When I signed up for the fest this work was a part of, I had no clue at all what I wanted to write, and then I blinked and there was this fully formed story on the page in front of me. Though it isn't necessarily the ship I pen the most frequently, Fremione was the pairing that first got me interested in HP fanfiction and there will always be a special place in my heart for these two. I hope you enjoy reading this even half as much as I enjoyed writing it.
If you're interested in reading more Fremione holiday content, make sure you check out the other works in this collection on AO3; there are some other truly fantastic stories that have been shared.
Have a safe and happy holiday season!
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"All right, all right, let's settle down now!" Hermione called, suppressing a smile as she tried to calm her classroom full of excited, wriggly children.
She'd just announced that a special visitor would be coming in the following day to help out with their Christmas craft projects - none other than Fred Weasley, who was something of a celebrity to the older children.
"We won't be able to do anything fun tomorrow if we can't finish our work today, will we?"
The idle threat was enough to quiet them, and they turned back to their respective projects as Hermione resumed her usual position behind her desk in the corner of the room.
As she looked out over their heads, Hermione felt a familiar swell of pride at what she had managed to build in the past several years. In this room were the kids aged eight to ten, who were separated further into three groups.
The ten-year-olds were currently completing an exercise in which they practiced evenly slicing ginger root (with safety knives, charmed not to cut fingers); the nine-year-olds were working on their multiplication tables; and the eight-year-olds were taking a quiz on the Hogwarts founders. In all, there were about thirty children.
In the next room, the other teacher had the five- to seven-year-olds working on more basic concepts.
Hermione had previously been in charge of that group as well, but she had been secretly thrilled when the school had outgrown her single classroom and necessitated that another teacher come onboard. While she truly loved children of all ages, she found she had a bit more patience with those that were slightly older.
Unlike Hogwarts, The Marauders Preparatory Academy was a day school. Children were dropped off or flooed in at nine in the morning and left at four in the afternoon.
It had taken several years after the war to get the proper funding lined up, as well as appealing to the ministry for allowances like the monitored use of underage magic on the premises, as well as the issuance of "practice wands" for the older children, but it was a project Hermione didn't feel the least bit guilty about exploiting her connections to achieve.
While Harry didn't play an active role in the school, he was the primary benefactor that had helped her get the place off the ground, along with Neville and the Weasley twins.
The original intention of the academy had been to ensure that children like Harry and her, and frankly like Tom Riddle, didn't feel isolated or out of place, raised in the muggle world while knowing they were somehow different.
That said, the concept had quickly snowballed to make up for a number of other issues in the magical community of wizarding Britain. For example, pureblood children who previously couldn't afford tutors now received a formal education in basic things like English and arithmetic.
Hermione had spent many, many hours discussing the shortcomings of the former system with Minerva, who had been all too eager to brainstorm ways to make the transition to Hogwarts less tumultuous.
She'd detailed stories of muggle-born students overwhelmed by the new world they suddenly found themselves in, pureblood students that didn't know basics like writing and simple maths, and all manner of children in between that struggled with socialising and adapting to the rigid structure of Hogwarts' curriculum.
There had been, and still was, strong opposition to the school from certain factions of the older pureblood families, but post-war it seemed those opinions carried much less clout, and she had the heads of several of the most noble houses among her supporters, as well as Kingsley and Percy at the Ministry.
The children worked in silence for the remainder of the hour before the clock in the entry-hall struck four.
"Dragons, if you could please place your chopped roots in the jars on your tables and write your names on them, I will come around to collect them. Bowtruckles, set your worksheets in a pile on my desk, and Kneazles, please do the same with your quizzes."
The playful nicknames for each year-group had been Luna's suggestion when they were having tea prior to the school opening. Hermione kept a watchful eye as the children went about their tasks before going to the cubbies against the far wall and collecting their bags and cloaks. She strode across the room to open the door so they could file into the entryway, the walls of which were lined with fireplaces.
They began to line up and floo themselves home with a myriad of waves and goodbyes sent in her direction, as well as a couple hugs, all of which she returned warmly.
It was her turn to oversee pick-up, so she kept a careful ear out to make sure everybody spoke their destinations properly. Once they had mostly gone, she spotted a familiar face near the front door of the building where some parents opted to collect their children in person.
"Hi Hannah," she greeted cheerfully, watching as the very pregnant witch awkwardly bent to fasten little Rose's cloak around her shoulders.
"Hi Hermione," Hannah replied, looking up and returning a somewhat tired smile.
"Everything alright? You look a bit knackered."
"Oh, it's just Hugo – he's going through a phase of climbing into our bed in the middle of the night. Combine that with this one," she gestured at her stomach, "kicking me all hours and it's a miracle I get any sleep at all."
"I'm a good girl and I stay in my bed at nighttime, so mummy doesn't have to get up," Rose offered solemnly, turning to look up at Hermione with a serious expression.
"I'm sure you do sweetheart," Hermione said in an equally somber tone, crouching to help her adjust the bag on her shoulder as it threatened to topple the tiny witch.
"We're just about to do a bit of holiday shopping if you'd like to join us," Hannah offered, beginning to make her way toward the door.
"I can't, I have to get some things together for the students' craft projects tomorrow, but thank you so much for inviting me. You ladies have fun, and give my love to Ron and Hugo," Hermione said with a smile, waving as they departed.
Frankly, she did have the time to join them, but socialising with Hannah one-on-one was always a bit uncomfortable. Though Hermione and Ron had only dated for a few months after the war, seeing his family now was a startling look at what her life could have been if they had stayed together.
Hannah was a wonderful mother and a loving wife, but, much like Molly, she was content to be only those things the majority of the time, and Hermione knew in her heart that she never would have been. Though there had been an increasing number of instances over the years that she wished she had children of her own, ending things with Ron had been best for both of them.
Once the last of the students and parents departed, Hermione shut the door behind them and locked it before going to poke her head into the classroom adjacent to hers.
"What in Merlin's name happened in here?" she asked, eyes wide as she took in what looked like thick purple paint splattered across the ceiling and down two of the walls.
"I do not want to talk about it," Theodore Nott said sullenly as he waved his wand and continued to vanish the offending goop in patches. He too was bespattered, curly brown hair plastered to his head on one side and glasses askew.
"Accidental magic?" Hermione asked with a wince, pressing her lips together in a tight line to suppress a laugh when a glob of paint fell from the ceiling and plopped unceremoniously on his head.
"Finnigan. Again."
"Sweet Salazar, he's almost as good at making things explode as his father," Hermione said, shaking her head.
"Well, he's your problem next year," Theo said with a slightly mean smirk. "Would you please…?" he gestured to his person as he vanished the last of the paint from the wall beside his desk.
"Of course," Hermione said, drawing her wand and vanishing the goop that was all over him before performing a cleaning charm on his robes. Working with children, it was a near-daily ritual. "Remember, Fred is coming in tomorrow to help with the holiday crafts."
She perched on the edge of his desk as he took his seat behind it and organised a stack of what appeared to be rather colourful drawings of centaurs and merpeople.
"How could I forget? You've mentioned it. Twice a day. Every day. For the past week," he teased accusingly.
"Have not," she defended.
"He broke up with Katie ages ago Hermione. That well-muscled ginger ship is going to sail off into the sunset without you if you don't hop aboard soon."
"I am not 'hopping' on anything, we're just friends."
"Whatever you say darling. Are you okay to close up? I have to go home and get ready for a date with my own 'friend.'"
"Of course," she waved him off, "give my love to Neville."
"Oh, I'll be giving him lots of love, rest assured," he said, waggling his eyebrows and grabbing the bag that was stashed beneath his desk.
"You're obscene, you know that?"
"Only on days ending in Y. Have a good night!" he called over his shoulder, scurrying from the room before she could change her mind. She heard the floo roar to life and then quiet again a second later.
Hermione got off the desk and walked slowly along the perimeter of the room, muttering cleaning spells and straightening charms, finally extinguishing the lights before closing the door behind her. She locked all of the floos in the entry hall and then made her way into her own classroom.
She levitated the jars of ginger root onto the table behind her desk to be marked over the weekend and placed the worksheets and quizzes in folders which she then deposited in her bag. After performing the same cleaning spells she'd just completed in Theo's room, she closed the door to the entry hall and proceeded through to the other door in the back of her classroom that was connected to the admin office.
The much smaller chamber was lined with filing cabinets and stacked boxes of supplies – quills, parchment, paints, vials, and the like. She picked out some of the things they would need for the next day and placed them on the crowded desk against the wall before sighing and looking at the clock over the door. It was already almost six. She collected her things from the hook beside the door to the back alley and stepped into the frigid December air.
After locking and warding the building, she ducked out of the backstreet and onto the main road through Hogsmeade. Even for a Thursday, the village was bustling with people shopping for the quickly approaching holidays, many attempting to avoid the larger crowds in London.
She made her way slowly to the lane that led toward the quieter part of town where her cottage sat. The sky was already darkening, and the lightest flurry of snow had begun to fall. Her feet made quiet slopping sounds as she trudged through the slush on the path, pulling her cloak more tightly around her as the wind picked up. Someone had adorned the streetlamps with red ribbons that fluttered festively in the gusty breeze.
She reached the garden gate in front of her house and pushed it open, the metal creaking a bit, before she continued up the flagstone path to her front door.
Hermione loved her home. It looked as though it belonged on a greetings card; an unassuming cottage with a thin blanket of snow over the roof. She had enchanted some muggle holiday decorations so that twinkling lights lined the gutters overhead.
"Felix, I'm home," she called, as she stepped into the small parlour and dried her cloak and boots with a wave of her wand before depositing them in the hall cupboard. A pale grey half-kneazle with obscenely large ears turned the corner and began weaving around her legs.
"Did you miss me?" she asked, smiling as he meowed innocuously before leaping onto the back of the sofa beside her Christmas tree. "Yeah, I missed you too."
She moved into the kitchen and prepared herself a sandwich, retrieving a packet of crisps from the cupboard to go with it. As she leaned against the counter and ate her dinner while Felix dozed in the other room, she couldn't help but dwell on Theo's earlier comment about Fred and her.
She and the elder Weasley twin had grown indisputably close in the past year, some weeks having dinner together more often than not. Shortly before George and Angelina, now pregnant with their first child, had gotten married, Fred had moved to Hogsmeade to take over the new branch of WWW full time and gave them the run of the flat over the Diagon Alley store. Not long after that he'd broken things off with Katie Bell, his girlfriend of several years.
Hermione was surprised, having assumed they would get married as well, but Ginny told her that neither of them had been completely happy with the relationship for some time. She and Katie played for the Harpies together and she got the scoop from both sides. Apparently, Fred had wanted to settle down and start a family, but Katie wanted to continue playing quidditch professionally, something that was extremely difficult for a witch after having children.
Fred didn't blame her for the relationship ending, only ever speaking fondly of their time together, but Hermione could tell he was initially a bit depressed about having to start over.
Her mind then drifted to seeing Hannah picking up Rose. As she stood in the still quiet of her home, dimly lit by Christmas lights and the lamp hanging over the sink, she reasoned that she was quite content with her life.
She had the school running smoothly and couldn't be happier with how far it had come since she had first pitched the idea to Harry more than seven years ago. He was teaching Defence up at Hogwarts now, so she saw him and Ginny relatively frequently. They had been married for several years and talked about kids, but Harry wasn't in any rush, content to play parent to those in his classroom. Ron came around every so often, though the more children he had the less they saw of him.
She scourgified her plate and placed it back in the cupboard before settling on the sofa and pulling Felix into her lap. She looked at the lights on the tree for a moment, enchanted to twinkle, then flicked her wand at the radio in the corner, which began to croon an instrumental of Silent Night. For a moment she shut her eyes and let the music wash over her.
Finally, with a sigh, she summoned her bag from where she had deposited it on the kitchen counter and extracted the quizzes she needed to mark.
Hermione was content, truly, but the tiniest voice in the back of her mind couldn't help but wonder if she might be ready for something more.
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A/N: I would like to give a shoutout and thank-you to TanzaniteWrites, Omnenomnom, and Raquians for beta-reading this story. Also, a tremendous thank-you to LSUsweetie for her continued support, encouragement, and advice.